Page 82 of Forgive Me, Father

On one side, I hated the marks I left on her body; I guess aftercare was going to come later.But on the other side, she was so fucking beautiful wearing my marks, and I couldn’t begin to put what I felt into words.One thing was clear: I was one damn lucky bastard.Maybe I should send Philip a gift basket or something for screwing up his shot with Camilla.Best mistake he ever made.

Sarah wasn’t happy when I contacted her and told her Camilla was going to try to be my submissive.

Sarah needed the pain, like I needed to bestow the pain.I made peace with the darkness that lived inside me.But with Camilla lying in my arms, breathing softly in her sleep, something shifted.For the first time, I felt the full weight of what I was.

I patched her up first, took care of her cuts and flamed skin, then carefully dressed her, fumbling a little as I eased her back into her clothes.

Then, I lifted her into my arms and carried her to my dressing room.She looked so fragile as I laid her on the couch, while I got dressed back into my clothes.

I pulled on my sweater, the weight of today still clinging to me.

She had satiated my demon.She proved that she was enough to handle my darkness.

I doubted Nico truly knew just how perfectly he’d chosen my bride.Tears stung my eyes as I tried to make sense of what I felt, of whatwehad.I never imagined I could share something like this with a spouse.The fear of the unknown gnawed at me.For all I knew, Camilla might wake up wanting a divorce.And if that were what she truly needed...hell, at this point I’d give it to her.Even if it destroyed me.

I lifted her gently into my arms.It was time to go home.

Nico was still seated at the entrance, his eyes locking onto mine the moment I stepped out.The sight of me carrying Camilla told him everything.She had done it.She’d walked into the fire with me.

Without a word, Nico stood, offered a quiet nod, and opened the door.I stepped through and the SUV was parked right in front of the building.

Nico opened the SUV’s back door.He didn’t speak, he didn’t need to.

I climbed in and settled with Camilla still fast asleep on my lap, her body nestled against mine.I held her tightly, protectively, like I was afraid she’d slip away.

It was impossible to put into words what I felt.My thoughts stormed in every direction, trying to make sense of what had just happened, of what this meant for her, for me, for us.For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel like mine to dictate.It wasoursnow.

For the next two weeks, I would benormalagain, if only for a while.Then, it would be time to see if my runaway would choose to join me in my darkness once more, to coax me back, to keep me tethered.She was an angel, her light shining so brightly, and somehow, she had found her way into my shadowed world.It was hard to imagine, but she was the one leading me toward something better, something brighter, something I never thought I deserved.

My gaze shifted to Nico, sitting calmly behind the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road, focused and steady.

"Grazie, Nico," I muttered, my voice soft but sincere.

His eyes briefly met mine in the rear-view mirror.A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he let out a quiet huff as I pressed a tender kiss to Camilla's head, holding her close.

TWENTY-EIGHT

THE LITTLE RUNAWAY

I jolted awake,disoriented.The gentle sway of the yacht rocked beneath me, the subtle lapping of water against the hull almost soothing, but the emptiness of the room pressed in.I was alone.The silence felt heavy, unnatural.My head throbbed, and a cloud of confusion gripped me.

The last thing I remembered was an overwhelming exhaustion consuming me, and falling asleep right after Alfonso told me I could do whatever I wanted.

I never expected to wake up alone.It was weird that he didn’t bother waking me, didn’t stay to watch over me.But chose to fully dress me and brought me back here.

My body tingled with a slight sting, though it wasn’t as painful as my mind had built it up to be.

Still, the fear of seeing the damage held me back.I didn’t want to confront the reality of it, but I had to know.Could I handle this?

I desperately needed a shower.I pushed myself up from the bed, pulling off my shirt.My eyes landed on the plaster strips scattered across my body—evidence of what had been done.

He had already taken care of everything, tending to the marks, covering them as if to shield me from the aftermath.

There were no blisters, just the faint redness of tiny, angry red lines marking my skin.

I closed my eyes, feeling the familiar sting of tears threatening to fall.

Why did this have to be our way?